


Science vs Romance (Variations on a Theme)

by pringlesaremydivision



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Canon Typical Behavior, Friends to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, It's IASIP you know what you're in for, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-13 00:57:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10503105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pringlesaremydivision/pseuds/pringlesaremydivision
Summary: Or: eight times Mac and Dennis don't kiss, and two times they do.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Статистика против романтики](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12445572) by [Julia_Devi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julia_Devi/pseuds/Julia_Devi)



> Thanks to [Heather](http://threefootroo.tumblr.com/) and [Rachelle](http://ratchetrhink.tumblr.com/) for their betas, y'all are wonderful! Title is from the Rilo Kiley song of the same name.

They’re fifteen and smoking under the bleachers and they don’t kiss because: they barely know each other; because Dennis won’t stop calling Mac _Ronnie_ no matter how many times Mac scowls and flexes his muscles under the sweat-damp sleeves of his St. Joe’s button down; because Dennis is wearing makeup like some kinda goddamn queer and sometimes his freak of a sister trails behind him, tall and gangly like a bird, caged in aluminum that creaks whenever she walks; because where Mac goes Charlie goes and where Charlie goes the rest of the Freight Train follows; because Mac _isn’t gay_ and he never, not even once, notices how pretty Dennis’s cheekbones look wreathed in smoke in the fading afternoon light.

They’re eighteen and it’s prom night and they don’t kiss because: Dennis is a madman, drunk on cheap rum and red with rage, and Mac can see the veins in his neck bulging out from where he’s torn his bowtie away and flung it in the dirt; because Mac can still taste Dennis’s prom date’s tongue in his mouth, bitter tears and vodka and lip gloss and if that’s what kissing is like he never wants to kiss another girl—doesn’t want to kiss anyone ever again; because Mac _isn’t_ _gay_ , he’s obviously not gay, he slept with Dennis’s prom date, didn’t he, and if he feels sick and empty inside it’s probably just because of the liquor, that’s all.

They’re twenty and Dee’s in the nuthouse and they don’t kiss because: Dennis is the palest Mac’s ever seen him and Mac doesn’t want to be jealous that Dennis actually does care about his twin sister but his blood’s simmering hot under the surface all the same; because Dennis is shaky-handed and empty-eyed and Mac has seen plenty of breakdowns but this is different somehow, quiet and hollow where usually there’s screaming and broken bottles; because Frank and Barbara are in fucking Vietnam again even though Mac _knows_ they know about Dee and she and Dennis both act like they don’t care but they can’t fool Mac; because Mac _isn’t gay_ and when Dennis’s facade cracks down the middle and he sobs like something’s been ripped out of him Mac just curls his arms around him and holds him in the middle of his plush queen bed til he falls asleep because they’re friends, okay, it’s what friends do.

They’re twenty-three and they’ve just signed the lease on Paddy’s Pub, and they don’t kiss because: Charlie is there, high as a kite on spray paint and grinning from ear to ear; because there’s no time between the bottles of cheap champagne and the shots of expensive bourbon that the three of them keep switching between in the empty bar, in _their_ empty bar; because Dee comes stumbling in three sheets to the wind herself around one thirty in the morning, squawking about them not inviting her, _fucking boners,_ and Dennis is the happiest Mac’s seen him in a while because he ignores the insult and pours Dee a shot, clinks his glass against hers and downs the drink in one stiff-wristed gulp; because Mac _isn’t gay_ and his breath absolutely doesn’t catch in his throat when Dennis refills and turns to him, raising his shot glass in a toast, his eyes glittering bright in the sodium streetlight glow coming in through the dirty windows.

They're twenty-eight and somehow running the most successful gay bar in South Philly, and they don't kiss because: Mac is trying to get Dennis wasted, feigning ignorance on the proper procedure for tequila shots—and honestly, Dennis must be pretty far gone already if he thinks Mac doesn't know how to take a fucking tequila shot, they've been doing them since they were kids, Frank's Cuervo and limes from Barbara’s bar fridge, downing shots out of the bottle, never bothering with glasses; because there's something sweet in the agave and citrus bite that Mac can't quite put his finger on, something he thinks has less to do with the flush of the alcohol in his gut and more with the flush on Dennis’s cheeks; because Mac _isn't gay_ and anyway he's been biting his bottom lip so hard to keep down the sounds he can feel bubbling in his throat at the flash of Dennis’s tongue that he's split it and the salt in the wound is painful enough, he doesn't need to add the pressure of a kiss to it. 

They’re thirty-two and they’re trying to cash in on the mortgage crisis, and they kiss because: they’re playing characters, that’s what Dennis—what _Hugh_ says when he presses his lips against Ma- _Vic’s_ ; because _you want this to seem authentic, don’t you, baby boy?;_ because Mac _isn’t gay_ but Vic is, and the shiver that runs through him at the sweep of Hugh’s thumb against the hollow of his cheek is just him getting into character.

They’re thirty-seven and living in Dee’s shithole apartment because theirs has burned down (they burned it down, whatever, it doesn’t matter, it’s all details), and they don’t kiss because: it’s hard enough to get Dee out of the apartment so they can have a couple hours to jack off; because when Dennis suggests it’d be more efficient to just jack off together ( _it’s a guy thing, dude, don’t tell me you and Charlie never jacked off together_ and they have, but it’s—it’s _Charlie_ , for fuck’s sake) Mac can’t even breathe for several seconds; because Mac’s concentrating so hard on sneaking looks at Dennis’s dick in his periphery that he has no idea what’s going on in the piece of shit porno they’re watching; because Mac _isn’t gay_ but when Dennis’s bare forearm brushes against his on an upstroke Mac shoots all over himself, fast and filthy like a fucking teenager.

They’re thirty-nine, and they’re trapped in the jail of a sinking ship, and they don’t kiss because: it’s too late; because the water is filling in fast, soaking their shoes, their pants, the hems of their shirts; because Mac is gay but Dennis’s last words are to his sister and he always thought hell was fire and brimstone but clinging to Dennis’s hand in this wet watery grave is more hell than any flames could ever be.

They’re forty and Dennis has a son, and they don’t kiss because: Mac doesn’t have any knack for timing; because apparently he’s misread everything; because he’s badass enough to admit that he’s been in love with Dennis since they were fifteen but he remembers the ache of growing up with Luther in jail most of the time; because Mac is gay and he’s selfish as hell and he’ll blow up Dennis’s Range Rover without a second thought, but he’ll be damned if he’s gonna keep Brian Jr. from having his father around, even if his heart shatters into a million fucking pieces when he watches Dennis leave.

They’re forty, and Dennis shows up at Mac’s door a month and a half after he leaves for North Dakota, and they kiss, oh god, they kiss and they don’t stop, and there will be time for explanations and apologies later but not now because: twenty-five years is a goddamn long time, but the sweetness of Dennis’s lips, the warmth of his body against Mac’s, is well worth the wait.


End file.
